


Reflections

by On_Every_Spectrum



Category: Star Trek: Discovery, Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Aromantic, Aromantic Author, Aromantic Character, Aromantic Philippa Georgiou, Asian Character(s), Chosen Name, Female Character of Color, Gen, Growing Up, POV Character of Color, POV Female Character, POV Trans Character, PoV Philippa Georgiou, Queer Character, Queer Philippa Georgiou, Queer Themes, Reflection, Self-Reflection, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Michael Burnham, Trans Philippa Georgiou, Women Being Awesome, chosen family, legacy, queer, trans author, trans character written by a trans author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-23 12:51:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20008588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/On_Every_Spectrum/pseuds/On_Every_Spectrum
Summary: "Philippa Georgiou was grateful for the legacy she'd been left. A legacy shaped by her trans ancestors. By childhood heroes like Hoshi Sato. By her grandmother, who's name she bore with pride.And, she was proud of the legacy she would leave. As the first Asian trans women to serve as a captain in Starfleet. In the impact she'd had on so many crew members under her command. In Michael, who was finally coming into herself."





	Reflections

**Author's Note:**

> I am not Malaysian, nor do I have close relationships with anyone from Malaysia. The references made to Philippa's home country and language are almost entirely based off of Google searches. I apologize for any inaccuracies, and would gratefully receive and apply any feedback folks choose to give me. Regardless, please read this with a grain of salt.

Georgiou almost felt like she shouldn't be there. All of the other students waiting were girls. Honestly, there weren't a lot of students waiting in general. It didn't seem that most of them had really cared.

None the less, Georgiou wanted to be there. So, she waited. She waited a long time. Past the meet and greets between her classmates and Sato. 

Long enough that Sato seemed uncertain whether Georgiou was even waiting for her once the room emptied of everyone else. Georgiou folded her book closed, sat it down next to her, but didn't actually get up.

Sato walked over. "Did you want to talk?" She asked simply. Kindly. Sato had always seemed kind.

She was a little old lady now. Over eighty years old. But, she still did these visits when she was invited. Apparently, she was invited less and less. Enterprise had long since been in mothballs. 

But, Georgiou had always looked up to Sato. She was her hero. So, she'd worked to bring her here. Talked to folks in student government. Made it happen. Now, she didn't actually know what to say.

"Thank you." 

Sato looked confused. Georgiou realized belatedly that she hadn't actually answered the original question. She had a habit of doing that.

"I'd love to talk to you." She recovered, clarified. Sato smiled and sat down next to her. "Thank you. For coming today." And, for so many other things. But, this was enough.

"I was pleased to be invited." Sato said, seeming genuine. "What's your name?" 

"Just call me Georgiou." She answered hurriedly, feeling awkward and out of place. She'd wanted to meet Sato. Wanted to tell her why she admired her so much. But, that was hard without outing herself.

"You can call me Hoshi." The older woman said, patting her hand lightly. Seeming completely at ease. "Your accent. Do you speak Malay?" She switched out of English for the second sentence.

Georgiou replied in Malay also. "Yes. My grandmother taught me." She smiled, proud. Glad to be able to share something so important to her with someone so important to her.

"That's wonderful." Hoshi replied, eyes bright and beaming and face creased into a full smile. "I worry that the world is losing so many of our languages." She continued, smile fading some.

"My grandmother said that our language is part of us. Part of our culture. She saw our language as a gift she could give." Georgiou said more than she meant, but Hoshi listened intently. Nodding along.

When she responded it was to share that she'd learned Japanese from her grandfather. That it was how her interest in languages began. 

From there the two talked for almost forty minutes. Longer than Georgiou ever expected, but still so little time. 

Eventually, Hoshi made her apologies. Said she had to leave. Though, she seemed genuinely regretful to do so. And, Georgiou felt touched.

Just before she left, after they'd said their good byes, Hoshi stopped and turned around again. "When I received the school's invitation here, there was a letter from a student. Asking me to come. It was signed Philippa. I'd hoped to meet her..." She trailed off expectantly.

Georgiou swallowed. Hoshi had read her letter. "I don't know her." She forced herself to say. Carefully keeping her tone light and causal. Not revealing anything.

"Oh, well." Hoshi shrugged. "I'm glad I got to meet you at least." And, with that, she turned and continued on her way. Not realizing the impact any of that had on Georgiou.

* * *

Sato died less than three years later. Georgiou was fifteen. 

Her death was reported by all the media. Of course it was. But, most people didn't really care. It was an interesting thing to talk about over tea. "Did you see...?"

Archer's death five years ago had been a bigger deal. The captain of the Enterprise, the first starship of it's kind. Sato was just the communications officer. No matter that she let Humans talk to more species than they'd previously even known existed.

Georgiou mourned quietly. 

She hadn't shared her admiration of Sato with many people. Even in sixth grade when she'd campaigned to bring her to the school for a visit, she didn't tell anyone what a personal hero Sato was.

Hoshi Sato. Communications Officer on the Enterprise.

There still weren't a lot of Asian women in the history books. Not because they didn't do amazing things. Georgiou could personally tell you about any number of amazing Asian women from the past two hundred years. But, because Earth still wasn't nearly as "evolved" as they like to pretend.

But, Hoshi Sato was there. Underappreciated. But, there none the less.

And, Georgiou had looked up to her since long before she had the words or context to explain why.

* * *

She was eighteen when she started going by Philippa. Her grandmother's name. One she'd held close to her heart ever since she'd passed away. One she'd decided then would someday be hers.

Philippa was eighteen years old. Off to Starfleet Academy. Ready to follow in the footsteps of her hero. And, ready to show up in the world as herself.

She told her friends and family she was a woman. Informed them of her name. And, didn't bother waiting for their reaction before she left. She told them for her sake. Not for theirs.

Philippa made more of a name for herself at the Academy than she expected. She was thoughtful. A quiet leader. Resourceful.

Not everyone noticed. But, those that did talked among themselves. One of Philippa's professors advised she apply to the command training program in a few more years.

Philippa promised to take it into consideration. 

She didn't know whether she actually wanted to be in command. She didn't actually doubt her ability to do it. She rarely doubted herself. She knew her own skills.

But, command felt flashy. Unnecessary. She worried that the other positions were undervalued. Didn't want to dismiss possibilities out of hand just because they wouldn't lead to "Captain."

Her last year at the Academy, she was assigned to a supervisory position during a student training exercise. One of her supervisees, a sweet femme boy she'd always been rather fond of, was clearly all nerves.

He was more than capable of accomplishing the task at hand. She knew that. She'd seen him work on similar enough scenarios before. But, he needed to have that confidence in himself.

She coached him through the whole training exercise. Not hand-holding or letting it prevent her from meeting her other responsibilities. But, provided guidance and reassurance, when and as it was needed.

That evening, she sat in her dorm room reflecting. A practice she made time for every day. And, she realized that she had an actual reason to pursue command. She enjoyed supervision. Not "being in charge" per say, but leading. She could be a leader.

* * *

Philippa had always known her history. She'd been a reader her whole life. And, her grandmother had taught her the importance of connecting with where you're from.

Philippa knew the history of her family. Of her region. She knew where she came from. And, what she hoped to leave behind.

Her ties to her trans community might not be traced in blood, but they were no less salient. So, she had learned the history of the women who came before her.

Read about incredible trans women from across the centuries. Learned their stories. Taken in what they'd left behind.

Philippa had longed for the kind of community she'd read about. One formed in love and shared experience as much as through necessity.

She worked to build that kind of community where she could. Reached out to other trans folks. When and as she found them. Most weren't open about being trans.

When she first met Michael, she was unaware that the girl was also trans. Sarek had reached out personally. Asked her to take Michael on as a favor to him. He'd included a full report. Michael's transcripts from the Vulcan Science Academy. And, a lengthy letter from her mother. 

It was obvious that Michael was incredibly intelligent. She came with an impressive transcript. Yet, from what her mother said, Philippa sensed some reason for concern, even amid all of the clear pride.

From the moment Michael beamed aboard her ship, it was apparent why. She was quiet. Reserved. And, yet, made it clear what she thought of people. Philippa liked her. And, it was obvious Michael needed her. Or, at least, that she needed someone.

It took months to actually build a relationship with her. They'd connect for a moment. And, then Michael would retreat even further into herself. Philippa kept at it.

When she did learn Michael was trans, it was entirely by accident. And, she wondered whether she should even say anything. If she wasn't captain, she wouldn't have had access to the ship's medical request form. If she wasn't trans herself, she wouldn't have noticed the extra estrogen on the list.

Not that that alone meant Michael was trans, but when she had that piece, it seemed readily apparent. The advantage to being trans is that it's often easier to spot one of your own. Cis people assume that everyone else is cis too. Trans people don't.

So, Philippa suspected that she and Michael had that in common. But, she refrained from saying anything. Debating whether it might help her connect with the girl. Debating whether that justified bringing up something personal that Michael hadn't chosen to share

In the end, the matter resolved itself. Philippa found herself with an opportunity to invite Michael to her quarters. Thinking only of improving their tenuous and fragile relationship. 

Michael commented on the framed "trans resistance" poster hanging in her room. A vintage find. Special ordered and carefully preserved. It had been a gift to herself. Something to hang between the photo of her grandmother and a map of her hometown, items that reminded her of who she was and where she was from.

"Trans resistance?" Michael had asked simply, an eyebrow quirked in her characteristic fashion. A mannerism Philippa suspected she'd learned from Sarek.

"A slogan used some in the 21st century, when the poster is from" She provided context. "It speaks to the trans community's strength at collective resistance. The many ways in which we resist simply by being." She smiled thoughtfully. "I find that concept continues to resonate today."

Michael had fixed an evaluating gaze on her. "We." She echoed. "You're trans." It wasn't really a question. They always were skilled at finding their own.

"Proudly so." Philippa answered anyways. Straightening a bit. She was proud of who she was. She took strength in being trans. She wondered if Michael did too.

"Were you aware of my trans status?" Michael asked. Always direct. Quick to bypass emotion and focus on facts. "I suspected." Philippa answered honestly.

Michael stood quiet for another long moment before sitting down. They drank their tea almost silently. But, by the time the glasses were near empty, they'd started talking. They didn't stop until well past late evening.

* * *

Philippa had never planned on having kids. Her body couldn't support it.

Trans folks had had to fight for the right to define the bodies that they had. After tight restrictions on body modification went into place following the Eugenics War. Research on new procedures had come to a firm stop and never recontinued.

Many people chose to adopt. Or accepted the services of a surrogate. Philippa had never considered either of those options. She'd resolved to join Starfleet at the age of eight and, you couldn't have a family on a starship.

When she realized she was aromantic and not interested in partnered relationships, that simply made that decision all the easier.

Philippa hadn't planned to have kids, but that never stopped her from building a family. She developed close friendships. Mentored people. Loved freely and readily.

She came to love Michael as a daughter. Accepted her as part of her chosen family.

Michael became a part of her life in a way that her other mentees didn't. She took her with on a trip home once. To Pulau Langkawi. Showed her where she grew up.

When she updated her will, she finally had someone to leave one of her most prized family heirlooms to. Someone who was family to her.

She loved Michael. And, she watched her grow into herself. Proud as any mother might be.

She shared the stories of their community. Told the names of countless women who'd gone before them. Brown trans women who'd fought and died so that they might have the space to be themselves.

Philippa Georgiou was grateful for the legacy she'd been left. A legacy shaped by her trans ancestors. By childhood heroes like Hoshi Sato. By her grandmother, who's name she bore with pride.

And, she was proud of the legacy she would leave. As the first Asian trans women to serve as a captain in Starfleet. In the impact she'd had on so many crew members under her command. In Michael, who was finally coming into herself.

Philippa still took time to reflect at the end of each day. And, today, she reflected on how much she had to be thankful for. How far she'd come. And, how much she could be proud of.


End file.
